Fifteen Minutes in London Series
by LadyClaire87
Summary: A collection of one-shots revolving around important events in one of the characters' lives. Their names are not stated until the end. Can you guess who they are? This time: A sixteen-year-old, red-haired girl has a coffee at King's Cross.
1. Touch and Go

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Universe and characters are the sole property of JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros, Inc. No money is being made.

Author Notes: This was my first attempt a writing fanfiction. Please review.

Summary: One day, a stranger bumps into a little girl. Guess Who?

Touch And Go

Gray clouds covered the sky. The rain had finally passed off, but it was still cold. And windy. The cold wind blew harshly around the corners, trying to get hold of hats and stuffed shopping bags.

Most of the people in the busy London street were hurrying along, trying to get in the next store, before the rain started again and trying to finish their shopping as quickly as possible, so they could go home and spend the rest of the day sitting in front of their warm fireplaces, drinking hot chocolate.

Only a little 3-year-old girl, wearing bright green wellingtons and a rain coat the same color, was perfectly content. She happily hopped around, jumping in the water puddles, that had formed in the middle of the precinct, laughing when the water went splashing high in the air. Her parents and her sister were standing in front of a department store, trying to decide where to eat lunch. It seemed to be a difficult decision. Meanwhile, the girl had discovered a little puppy. She played with it for a little while and gave it a few of the sweets she carried in her pocket.

A tall man had just left a shabby pub, most people would never have noticed. He appeared to be just over thirty years old and had a hard, rather mean and determined set to his jaw. He was still preoccupied with the information he had just acquired. He now knew who had been in his way these past weeks. That one, he thought, might try to make trouble. But then, he won't be a problem. The tall man knew how to _'take care'_ of people who dared to oppose him. A dangerous smirk appeared on his face.

Just then, he bumped into a little girl, that was playing with a puppy. Automatically, his hand grabbed hers, just before she fell and the same instant, he told himself off for being so considerate of the little brat. And what was she staring at him for? The little brat did indeed stare at him, as tough she had been frozen. ''Watch where you're playing, Mudblood!'', he sneered and went on, forgetting about the incident five seconds later, as his thoughts returned to the person that would soon wish to never ever have even thought of raising its fatuous voice against him. That would be, if the worthless git would be given time to do so. The dangerous smirk reappeared.

The little girl however, did not just forget the incident. As a matter of fact, the icy coldness that had swept over her, as his hand had touched hers, would be her earliest memory. She would remember it, when, at age eleven, on the train to boarding school, a greasy haired kid would call her 'Mudblood' and she would remember it facing the flash of green light. But for now, she was still standing there, frozen. Her mother who had seen the incident came running over, fussing ''Are you all right,dear?'', she asked, hugging her child, but the child did not react. ''Sweetie? Sweetie!'' The child's answer came slowly, sounded scared and very serious. ''He's evil, Mommy.'' The mother was shocked. ''Surely that's a little to harsh, sweetie? He only bumped into you. I sure he didn't mean to. I mean it could have happened to anyone. This doesn't make him evil.'' But the little girl had not been thinking about that part of the incident. She only remembered the coldness.

''No, Mom.'' Lily Evans looked straight in her mothers eyes. ''He's evil!''


	2. Magic Is Real!

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Universe and characters are the sole property of JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros, Inc. No money is being made.

Summary: A seven-year old learns about the existence of magic. Or perhaps he doesn't. Mystery (or rather a little riddle).

Magic is Real!

A Sunday in early spring. It wasn't exactly warm, but at least sunny and, for a change, dry. Half of London seemed to have decided to spend the day in Hyde Park. Every bench was occupied, children ran around, playing and screaming and barking dogs were everywhere.

Amidst the turmoil, a dark-haired seven-year-old boy was sitting on the grass next to Serpentine Lake. He was part of a group, but he sat apart from the others. He preferred to be alone, or more precisely, he was glad they weren't teasing him right now. Instead, they were trying to catch and torture a duck. The duck was too quick for them, though. He rather admired it for being able to stay just an arm's length out of reach. Perhaps he should ask the duck to teach him.

An ant had managed to crawl onto his hand. Carefully he put it down on the ground next to him, then stepped on it. It hadn't died at once and he watched how it struggled on for a while. Then, he got bored and looked around. There was an old man sitting on a bench nearby feeding pigeons. Two boys wearing sailor suits, were sitting on another bench next to their parents. they looked thoroughly bored. The seven-year old snorted. They should be happy. They had parents spoiling them. Something he could not say about himself.

Suddenly, a young couple caught his attention. She was about twenty years old and had blond hair, that went down to her hips. Had the boy been older, he would have described her as beautiful. The man was a little older and had short, black hair. They were wearing, well... some kind of cloak.

"You cretin! How dare you! I should have known you're a git. You're a Slytherin after all," she screeched at the top of her voice.

Slytherin? The boy had never heard that word before.

Suddenly, the man was pointing a wooden stick at her."Don't you dare insulting the Noble House, you unworthy vixen!"

"Put your wand away! In case you haven't noticed, we're in a park full of Muggles! You'll get into..."

Before the woman could finish her sentence, even before the boy could start to wonder about the words wand and Muggles, a flash of light shot out of the end of the sick and the the woman. The next second, a rope that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, had tied her up and silenced her.

The little boy jumped up in shock. What was that? How did he do that? It was like magic. But magic didn't exist. Or did it? He suddenly remembered how a boy that tried to punch him flew across the room without anyone having touched him, and how the tea he had once spilled on the freshly polished wooden floor, had vanished before anyone had seen it and punished him. And then, there was still the unsolved matter of him appearing back in the classroom in front of his teacher's desk, when ha had been outside just a second before. Did magic exist after all? Was he a wizard?

An older woman, accompanied by ten or twelve people, had appeared next to the couple.

"Mr. Black! You again! That's the second time this week," she shouted angrily.

"Ah, I'm so sorry," the man replied sarcastically.

The older woman pointed another wooden stick at the tied up woman and mumbled something. The ropes vanished.

The boy pinched himself. No, he wasn't dreaming. This was real! How would it change his life? Was he really a wizard? Yes, that was the only explanation. He could show those other boys.

Deep in his thoughts, he did not notice the older woman walking towards him. However, he looked up, when he heard her say "Obliviate!". The boys' eyes slid out of focus. When he could see again, he stared at her blankly.

Strange, Tom thought, where did she come from?

Author Notes: Okay everyone, please review. And how many of you first thought that it was Harry? Oh, and if you didn't catch the hint in the summary, you might want to go back and have a look.


	3. Dear Diary

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Universe and characters are the sole property of JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros, Inc. No money is being made.

Summary: A nine-year-old boy writes in his diary the evening of his birthday. Mystery. One-shot, but part of my "Fifteen Minutes In London"-series. Can be read separately from the other parts.

AN: A couple of days ago, somebody left me a review for the first two stories and I decided that while I might not have time to actually write more, I could at least put up what I have written. If this story sounds familiar to anyone, then maybe it was already published once. I could have sworn I already updated it years ago! I believe I remember a review to it commenting on the middle name. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. I think this time recognizing the characters is rather easy.

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Dear Diary

Today, I saw the most beautiful animal you can imagine! Of course father doesn't like it at all, but he never agrees with anything I say!

Anyway, it's probably better to start at the beginning of the whole story. Today is my ninth birthday. You know that, of course, after all I have talked about it for days. Hey, you know it means that you are one year old now! Happy First Birthday Diary! Well, back to my story. As always I got a lot of presents. Well most them were rubbish as always. What would I need a magical thumbscrew for? And my cousin got me a book again. Knowing her taste, I better not read it. It is probably about some wizards inventing cruel methods to kill Mudbloods again. I better not even open it. It's probably got pictures.

But anyway, every year when it is my birthday, I get to choose where we spend the day. It's the only time of the year I'm allowed to decide anything. So well, this year I chose the zoo. Of course, father didn't really like the idea, but Mother pointed out that it is my birthday and so he had to agree. You know what Mother is like. He would never ever even dream about arguing with her.

So, right after breakfast, we took the floo and went to London's Magical Zoo. Father paid while we looked at the rare owls they keep in the entrance hall. Then father wanted to go to the reptile house and look at the snakes. Why was I not surprised at all by this?

And well, it happened on our way there. We had just left the entrance hall, when I saw them.

They had a huge outdoor enclosure all to themselves. One of them, the biggest one, was lying on top of a huge rock and, I swear, he was looking right at me. Others were moving around. They moved so gracefully, so elegant and so majestically. Another one shook his mane. and roared loudly. All I thought was: WOW! How beautiful!

By now, I had run to the fence of the enclosure. I think my father called for me to come back, but I didn't listen.

Next to me there was a black-haired boy who was about my age His father who looked a lot like him, was just telling him: "You know, my boy, they are the kings of all animals."

Suddenly, my father grabbed me and spun me around:

"Will you stop watching those dumb animals!"

"But father, the man over there said that they are the kings of all animals."

"No! They aren't! They are just big, fat, lazy, useless and arrogant pussy cats!"

Then I made a mistake. I talked back. One might have thought I had learned not to do that by now, but well, you know me. All I said was: "No, they aren't!" Talk about three words too much!

Father was already seething with rage before I said that, but now things definitely were a lost cause.

He took all of us home at once and locked me in my room. Even though it is my birthday! We haven't even been to the zoo for more than a quarter of an hour!

I tried to get help from Mother, but she was angry as well and my little brother, the stupid bastard, pointed out that it's all my fault. Of course, that didn't help me improve my mood.

But you know what, dear diary? I won't change my opinion.

Sirius Orion Black, officially like lions.

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AN: If anybody thinks that maybe Sirius wouldn't be the kind of person to write a diary, then let me tell you that I agree.

However, taking into consideration that he had no one to really talk to, I think he might have written a diary at some time. But only until he went to Hogwarts.

Any maybe his parents on a family outing seems a little strange, but hey, they're human, too!

PLEASE REVIEW!


	4. A Turning Point in History

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Universe and characters are the sole property of JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros, Inc. No money is being made.

Summary: A sixteen-year-old, red-haired girl has a coffee at King's Cross. Mystery. One-shot, but part of my "Fifteen Minutes In London"-series. Can be read separately from the other parts.

AN: Well this is the last one I got typed up. However, I found three old ideas in my scratch-book. One is even already almost done. It actually was the second one I wrote. Though I'm still not perfectly happy with it. But I think I might update that in the next year or so. :) No promises though.

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A Turning Point In History

September the first, King's Cross station, London. A sixteen-year-old girl deposited a heavy trunk in one of the lockers of the cloakroom and closed its door. At least she tried to do so. Closing the door of a locker that is more than full, is not always easy. She sighed, brushed a strand of her fiery-red hair out of her face and continued wrestling with the locker. After a minute or two, she finally managed to shut that damn door and locked it.

Looking around, she decided on a coffee and entered a small coffee shop. It was busy inside and for a moment she considered looking for another one, but then she spotted an empty seat in the back. A middle-aged woman occupied the other seat at the small table.

"Excuse me. Is this seat taken?"

"No, it isn't, dear. Do sit down."

After ordering a coffee with lots of milk and a piece of apple tart, the young girl took time to study the older woman. She was looking... well, strange, being draped in a gauzy spangled shawl and wearing all those chains, beads, bangles and rings. And those glasses! Heavens! This woman definitely needed some fashion advice. And well, her hair might welcome a brush. Just like someone else's hair... Her thoughts turned back to the person that had been sending her letters all summer. And she had opened them instead of throwing them straight into the bin. She always had been a little too curious for her own sake.

Suddenly the woman spoke: "Well my dear, what are you doing in London all alone?"

"Oh, I'm waiting for the train that takes me to school. My parents couldn't take me this year, because my grandmother's not well."

"I know that, but that isn't what you were thinking about."

The girl blushed to the roots of her flaming hair. "No, I was thinking about a boy, who keeps asking me out."

"Ah yes, young and in love!"

"I'm not in love with him!"

"Right, you keep telling yourself that, dear. The way you blush tells another story though."

"I'm not in love with him! He's a git. He always struts around, bragging and pranking and stuff."

"Because he wants you to notice him, dear."

"But I already noticed him. After all, you can't ignore a guy that has asked you out about three hundred times in three years, even though you've rejected him every single time, and who keeps writing you letters all summer."

"Did you answer those letters?"

If possible, the girl blushed an even deeper shade of red. "Well yes, I did. Those letters were quite nice actually... Perhaps he's growing up a little."

"They all grow up at some point in time. Tell me about him."

Later the girl would not be able to say why she continued talking to that strange woman at all, but she told her about how he had started asking her out, how he always ruffled his hair...

And she told her about the letter she gotten late yesterday evening. The one in which he asked her out again. She didn't really know how to react to that one. All his letters had been so nice. But wouldn't he behave like a git again? Once they were back at school? And weren't they too different to ever get along?

"You know, my dear," the woman told her," you're worrying way too much about all this. Just give him a chance. In the end, it might not turn out, because he continues to be a git or because you two are so different. But I have listened to you talking about him for only fifteen minutes and I can already tell that you are in love with him. If you continue to reject him, you might avoid getting hurt, but you will ask yourself for the rest of your life whether he might have been Mr. Right and you'll secretly always regret the decision.

I won't tell you things will be perfect, for I can see dark clouds hanging over your future. Dark, difficult times might be ahead, but I cannot tell you whether they will only come, if you decide to date him or if you decide to not date him or whether they will come regardless of what decision you make. The clouds are still some time away, try to be happy while they aren't here yet. Darkness shall come down on you soon enough."

The strange woman suddenly stood up and went to the counter to pay for her tea without a word of goodbye. A couple of minutes later, the girl, still deep in thought, did the same.

"Perhaps," young Lily Evans thought, as she left the coffee shop, "I will say 'yes' this time."

Sometimes, fifteen minutes in London change everything.

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AN: Please review! Let me know how soon you knew it was Lily. How many of you thought it was Ginny at the beginning? And how many of you realized that we do know the strange woman? Who is she? Ten points to everyone who reviews. An extra ten to all those who figure out who the woman is.


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